


Grounded

by ScrawledScript



Category: Critical Role, Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dissociative!Percy, F/M, Grounding techniques, Perc'ahlia Vacation, Sibling lost, The Feywild was rude, some minor cuddling, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawledScript/pseuds/ScrawledScript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Perc'ahlia vacation fic swap on Tumblr:</p>
<p>He helps her fly, and so she takes it upon herself to keep him grounded. (In which, the Feywild swallowed seven years and Percy has trouble deciding if he's dreaming or not.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounded

She finds him quite by accident, and only by the slight sound of breath being drawn too rapidly. He is trying to be quiet, but growing up with Vax had fine-tuned her slightly pointed ears to the smallest of sounds. So she sneaks closer, her feet silent upon the worn stone, and takes a peek.

He’s leaning on a bookshelf, one arm extended and the other wrapped around his middle. He seemed to be struggling to stand and she was honestly surprised he wasn’t collapsed on the ground. She would be, were their situations reversed. Vex takes a few steps back and clears her throat, making more noise than was necessary, “Percival, are you in here?”

He doesn’t answer for a while, but she waits.

“Does it matter if I say I’m not?”

That’s all the invitation she needs, and she starts forward. He’s corrected his posture, but his back is to her, a book in front of him. If she was a stranger, he probably would have looked composed. But she can see him shaking, and they’re not strangers.

Vex doesn’t say anything as she walks, only wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in the blades of his back. He’s too tall, Percy is, and she can never reach where she wants. She squeezes for a moment, but when she feels him shudder, she lets go.

“There’s nothing you can say or do to-“

“I’m not here to try and give you a pep talk,” she has to clear her throat again, “I’m just…here.”

The bookshelves had grown dusty while they were in the Feywild, and she can see where his hands had been resting. He’d moved a few books, but none of them had made it completely off the shelf, save the one he was holding. The library had certainly seen better days and was in need of a serious cleaning.

Seven years was a long time to gather dust and cobwebs.

This was her fault, she knew. She’d wanted Fenthras, and at the time they’d _all_ been gung ho about retrieving it. They couldn’t have known what the cost would be, or how long they’d really been gone. Time was different between planes, and what had been a week for them had been nearly a decade for the prime realm.  She _had_ dragged her friends to their doom, but it seemed Saundor hadn’t been talking about Vox Machina.

What was left of Whitestone was still fighting, but there had been casualties. Namely, Cassandra and Kashaw. Gilmore, Pike and Zahra had managed to cobble together what was left, but.

“I _just_ got her back, Vex. And she was taken while we were looking for that damn bow.”

Vex flinches at the venom in his voice but says nothing. He was right. If she had just…waited, this wouldn’t have happened. Cassandra would still be here and…

“I’m sorry.” Vex says, and she is, of course she is. If she could take it back, she would. She’d trade anything, _anything_ , to change what had been done.

“So am I.”

Percy starts walking away, and she almost doesn’t follow him. She was probably the last person he wanted to talk to right now, what, with her being completely responsible for the current state of things. She’d let his sister die, and for what? A shiny weapon?

“She kept a journal, but I can’t…can’t bring myself to read it.”

Her feet draw forward when he holds a book out, small and bound in brown leather, the De Rolo crest on the front of it. The pages were crinkled and well used, obviously quite full of things.

Percy leads them to a nook, and finally turns to face her. He looks like what she’d expected him to, eyes red and crying, nose kind of snotty, lip trembling as he tried to calm himself. She forgets, sometimes, that he is young (not that she was _old_ , just, comparatively speaking, she’d lived longer), and so very, very human.

“Nothing feels…real, Vex. I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not, like this is all some terrible dream I can’t wake up from. This _can’t_ be _real_ , can it?” His voice is cracking and he chokes more than once while trying to say it.

He tries to curl up as he sits, but she straightens his legs and sits between them, probably closer than he’d like at the moment, but he was free to push her away. The window was covered in musty curtains, but it was night, anyhow, so there was no light to seek outside, so Vex leaves them alone.

“Do you think you’re dreaming now?” She asks, gently tugging the journal out of his hands. He watches it go with a forlorn expression, and maybe with a small glimmer of relief.

Percy shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Vex nods, “Okay. Let’s check. Close your eyes.”

Distraught as he is, he doesn’t argue. She moves closer and holds her hair under his nose, “What do you smell?”

Her hair is still wet, she knows, and when he breathes in, his shoulders relax just a little, “The oil you use to clean your hair. Some sort of…flower, I don’t know which.”

“Gardenias,” she answers, “Now, I’m going to move your head a bit. I need you to turn- yes, that way. Tell me what you hear.”

She lays his ear against her chest and waits, trying to keep her breathing even. She runs a few fingers through his hair as he rests against her. With the angle, she doubts he’s comfortable, but he doesn’t move.

“Your heartbeat. I hear your heartbeat.” He says finally. His voice is smoother now, and very quiet.

Next, Vex takes his hand and threads their fingers together, “Can you feel my hand?”

“It’s _warm_.” Percy says, still laying against her.  She knows he hasn’t rested-at least not properly- since they last slept in the Feywlid, which has been nearly two days.

“And what about here? Can you feel this?”

Vex guides his hand to her shoulder, making him sit up in the process, and he opens his eyes to look at where his fingers have gone to. She shrugs her shirt over to touch his fingertip to the healing wound there, watching his eyes.

“Where Saundor shot you,” he says slowly, “Does it still hurt?”

Vex shakes her head, “It’s fine.”

“When you went down, I thought…I’ve had that nightmare before and -”

“Does it feel like your dreaming?”

“You’re real, at least.” He tells her, thumb running just under her wound as if trying to smooth it out.

“And do you trust me? That I will tell you what’s real and what isn’t?”

Percy gives her a smile that breaks her heart, “I trust you.”

“Then I am the bearer of bad news-“ they both snort a little,” -and I’m sorry for my tidings. We chased after Fenthras, because I was impatient, and shit happened because the Feywild was far more savage than we had expected. I assume full responsibility for what has transpired in our absence.”

It is a pretty speech, but made unnecessary by his shrug, “I wanted to go, too. What happened was no one’s fault.”

It sounds like neither of them actually believe him, but she understands that he doesn’t blame her.

They stare at each other for a few minutes, neither sure what to say now. Percy runs his hands up and down her arms, and she got the feeling he was making sure she was still completely there, as if she might disappear if he let go. She was grateful for it, at any rate, because she had started to feel a little cold.

Seven years later and it was _still_ winter, and this window, while covered, was doing little to block the chill.

“You’d think losing her wouldn’t hurt so much the second time.” Percy says, breaking the silence.

Vex shakes her head and lays her head on his shoulder, “No, I wouldn’t think that.”

Another stretch of quiet between them, words failing in this late hour. She thinks he begins to drift off, but his body jerks as he fights to keep himself awake. She knew he was miserable, but he needed to rest. The only way to make sure he slept was to stay with him, so that’s what she was going to do.

“Are you comfortable enough to sleep?”

Percy shifts them both, fixing their awkward positioning, until they are both seated more comfortably in this strange little nook. She ends up laying against him with her legs tucked under her, his much longer legs on either side.

“Aren’t you cold?” He wonders as he brings his arms around her. It’s strange, sitting like this. They hadn’t done this before, but it felt like they’d been this way their whole lives. He’s maybe the best friend she has that isn’t Vax, and even though fate had been unkind to them both, they were still here, and that was something more than nothing.

“Just close your eyes, darling, you’re warm enough for me.”

“But-“

Vex presses a finger to his mouth, “If you wake up and don’t know if you’re dreaming, ask me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She feels him press a kiss to her hair and take another slow breath, checking once more that she is real and he had not fallen asleep, “Good.”

 


End file.
